


Let this feeling show

by CodCurried



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: M/M, very unhealthy amounts of drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-05-14 04:38:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19266037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CodCurried/pseuds/CodCurried
Summary: When all of Matteo’s concerns make themselves reminded on the same night, Matteo  turns to his trusted friend: hard liquor. Due to a series of events Matteo has no recollection of, Matteo wakes up the next day in a stranger’s bed. In a distinctly male bedroom.





	1. Chapter 1:

**Author's Note:**

> Giving writing a go. It's my first time, so please have mercy. I decided to just rush this and post this without reading through/editing it because I think if I did I would never have posted it.

Matteo took another swig of his beer and kept his eyes glued on Jonas. Jonas, who was in an intense conversation with Hanna, when he suddenly raised his hand and gently brushed aside a strand of hair from her face. Matteo turned away just as Jonas leaned forward, brushing his lips against her. 

Matteo downed the rest of the beer (which happened to be more than half full), and made his way to the kitchen. The journey was made more difficult as the house was crammed. The whole school seemed to have turned up. The mid-term break provided an excellent opportunity to party, and the weekend before the return to school was by tradition when the wildest party of the year was held. Matteo was determined to find something stronger to drink, so he pushed his way through throngs of loud, alcohol-buzzed teens. In the kitchen, the table was crammed full of bottles of all shapes, sorts and sizes. Matteo, without an ounce of guilt, grabbed the first bottle he saw. Tequila. Perfect, just what he needed.

An hour later, there was not much left, and there was a certain blurriness to everyone’s faces. Matteo decided to find someone he knew, and extradicated himself from a conversation with a girl whose intimate touches were getting a bit too much. He spotted Jonas and Hanna locked in a kiss, sitting down on a rather ratty looking couch. Had they even drawn a breath since he saw them last? 

With the liquid courage working through his veins, he made his way over and plopped himself down, practically on Jonas’ lap, to the surprised grunt of said person.   
“Love birds! You have made up!” Matteo chirped, his arm slung around Jonas neck. Hanna rolled her eyes, shook her head and got up and left. Matteo felt a pang of worry. Had she told Jonas what Matteo had done? But then, Jonas laughed and snuck his arm around Matteo’s waist. Matteo died a bit inside, but at least the worry disappeared.  
“Luigi, where have you been all my life?” Jonas asked. With some effort, Matteo managed to stop focusing all his attention on Jona’s hand which remained on his waist.  
“I never left your side. So things are good with Hanna?” he answered. He noticed his speech was slightly slurred, but he was proud of how normal and nonchalant he sounded otherwise. He sure was a master of drinking and acting.  
“I think so” Jonas said softly, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Remains to be seen where it goes from here. But what about you? I saw you getting cozy with Nina earlier. She’s cool.” Nina, that must be the touchy-feely girl from earlier.   
“Oh you know. I’m in demand as usual.” Matteo said with a shrug, plastering on a confident smile. A facade he had tired of a long time ago, yet put on so often it was now second nature.   
“Well good luck with that one Luigi, I am going to see where Hanna went” Jonas said, and was gone just like that. Matteo got about 40 seconds with him, and now here he was alone again, sat on the ratty couch. He leaned back and closed his eyes, his thoughts spiralling, going down dark and murky, but familiar, paths. He was just about to put the bottle to his lips once again when he heard a beep. Matteo looked at his phone. A message from mum. He put the phone back in his pocket without opening it. Two swigs of tequila later, he fished his phone out of his pocket again, this time opening the message.

Mum: Matteo, my dear son. I have received another coded message. Stay away from men in dark suits. I love you son, be safe.

Matteo’s insides turned, his next breath jagged. He promised himself he simply just wouldn’t open the next message. A promise he kept making and breaking.  
“Hi! I Was looking for the cool people, and look, I found you again”. It was the touchy girl from earlier, a big bright smile on her face. Matteo wracked his brain for a name but came up blank. Matteo took another swig out of the new bottle he’d precured. Vodka. He made it a big gulp this time. Things got fuzzier after that. He found himself awkwardly bopping along to the music with the touchy-feely girls arms around his neck. His limbs felt heavy. The girl started kissing him. He pushed her aside and stumbled away.  
\---  
He was being yelled at, he had no idea why. He wished they’d be quiet.  
\---  
He was bent over in a ditch, laboriously emptying his stomach from the liquid that had flown so easily into him.  
\---  
“It’s ok, I live right here. You were basically puking at my doorstep”. A voice said, an arm holding on to him, providing support and guidance.   
\---

Matteo slowly came to his senses, woken up by a dull banging that he soon realised was located entirely in his head. Why did he drink so much? The question was as familiar as a best friend. He felt the soft sheets against his bare chest. He was still wearing jeans. As the night before came back to him, he realised his hangover was a lot less severe than he would have expected. He recalled the numerous bottles of liquor he had plowed through. His stomach turned. He realised he had lost hours of the night before, having no idea how he got home. 

He opened his eyes, and looked straight at the duvet he was clutching closely to his chest. A duvet with unfamiliar patterns all over it. This was not his bed. He quickly raised his head, which unfortunately made the whole room spin. When the room came to a stop, he was faced with a wall full of drawings. He barely paid them any attention as he recognised this wasn’t Jonas room either. Looking around, he saw a mess similar to his own room, clothes strewn around, a desk covered in notebooks, papers and what seemed a million pens. An uncomfortable feeling started forming at the pit of his belly. Had he gone home with someone last night?

Matteo thought back to the night before, tried to sort the blurry memories into a timeline. The one person to stand out was that touchy girl, Nina… He had never been in this situation before, despite numerous nights of reckless drinking. He always had Jonas to take care of him, who’d take him home and let him crash in his bed. Jonas, who had no idea what it did to Matteo, waking up next to him in the morning. How wonderful it felt, being so close to him, seeing him asleep with his bed hair and his long eyelashes caressing his cheek. How horrible it felt, the longing, and the worry, the constant worry. What would Jonas say if he knew? That thought always quickly drove him out of bed, sneaking out as if it had been a one night stand he didn’t want to face.

Maybe he should be relieved that this wasn’t Jonas’ room. He didn’t know whose it could be. He couldn’t think of anyone he knew who drew. He untangled himself from the duvet. At least he was still wearing his pants. That was a relief. He looked at the floor, trying to find his shirt, when the realisation hit him. The clothes on the floor did not seem to belong to a girl. The boxers he was staring at sure seemed like they would usually house a dick. What had he done? The uncomfortable feeling in his stomach exploded into anguish.There was something he had not really acknowledged even to himself, despite the whole Jonas thing. But maybe drunk him felt he was ready to not just acknowledge it, but also act on it? Then again, he did wake up alone. 

After some deliberation, he ended up putting on a shirt he found on the floor. It seemed like a better option than prancing around topless in a stranger’s home. The grey shirt was slightly too big. By reflex, he had brought it up close and sniffed it, finding to his surprise the scent pleasant, woody and spicy. Distinctly male cologne. Taking a deep breath to calm his racing mind, he finally opened the bedroom door. 

He was facing a small lounge room with a two seater sofa, a TV and a what looked like an old video game console. Across the room, he saw the main entrance door. To the right, there was a gaping doorway, from which he heard the familiar sounds of someone pottering around, sounds he connected with a kitchen. Matteo eyed the front door. He could make an escape without ever confronting what he had done last night. Live the rest of his life in blissful ignorance and denial. In the end, curiosity won over. 

He inched his way over to the entrance of the kitchen, each step careful and measured. He just wanted a peek before whoever was in there noticed him. He saw a boy with his back turned to him. He was wearing dark sweatpants and a white shirt, his hair wild and dark. He was energetically stirring something in the frying pan by the stove. And from behind at least, he looked… good. Matteo avoided following that train of thought. 

Suddenly, as if sensing his presence, the boy turned around, and their eyes met. Time slowed, and in that moment, during a skipped heartbeat, Matteo felt as if he had found something he had been missing. Or maybe, as if he himself had been lost all this time and now finally had been found.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided I'd write another chapter if at least one person commented I should, and I got way more than that so thanks guys for wanting to read my noob writing! 
> 
> I always felt that druck had a real soulmate moment so I wanted to add that. But I don't think being soulmates is the same thing as love at first sight. As we shall see in this chapter!

The boy in the kitchen looked down, breaking their eye contact, and time snapped back to normal. The moment had passed leaving behind a peculiar aching, a longing for something Matteo was unable to name. Matteo was briefly bewildered by the experience, but dismissed it as a product of too much alcohol still in his system. That same alcohol that had made him wake up in a stranger’s bed. A stranger with wild, floppy black hair, warm brown eyes and a rather stand-offish facial expression.  
“You’re wearing my shirt.” the boy stated before turning his back on Matteo again. Matteo, to his great shame, just continued staring at the boy’s back. The silence stretched out as the boy stirred the contents of the frying pan.  
“I made breakfast. You can have some.” the boy finally said, still with his back to Matteo. Matteo ran a hand through his hair, swallowing hard to get rid of whatever seemed to be blocking his ability to speak. This guy didn’t seem particularly friendly. 

“Um.. did we.. like, did you and I…?” The words just tumbled out of Matteo’s mouth. Shit. He didn’t mean to ask that. The boy turned around at that, his face showing understanding despite the question being far from properly phrased. In fact, his expression was response enough. He looked sickened. “No, of course not.” he said forcefully.  
Matteo felt his face flush warm with humiliation. Either this guy did not like the insinuation that he’d do anything like that with another guy, or it was something about Matteo in particular. His cold mannerisms right from the start made it feel like the latter.

“I just thought, my shirt… your bed?” Matteo had clearly woken up today without his ability to form coherent sentences. Hopefully it was not a permanent affliction.

“Don’t you remember?” the boy asked, one eyebrow lifted inquisitively. “I found you throwing up near my house, so I offered you a place to crash. You are lucky I found you or you would have woken up in a ditch. Your shirt is in the washing machine.”

If Matteo thought he couldn’t feel more uncomfortable than he already did, he was just proven wrong. Shame washed over him as he imagined the state he would've been in when found. No one knew what a mess Matteo was, not even his best friend. Because that best friend, and what he felt for him, happened to be one of the reasons Matteo was falling apart. Matteo worried. What had he said and done during those lost hours? 

“Fuck. I’m sorry. Thank you.” Matteo mumbled, looking at the floor. He had to get out of here. Before he managed to make up an excuse and flee the scene, the boy turned back to the stove and exclaimed “Ok, it’s ready.” as he reached up to a cupboard and pulled out two plates, proceeding to dish out the scrambled eggs on them. With impressive timing, bread popped up from the toaster and the boy grabbed those and arranged them on the plates.

Who was this guy? Matteo felt like he was dreaming, seated as he was at the kitchen table across from this boy, whose bed he woke up in, whose shirt he was wearing, and who had cooked him the breakfast he was currently eating. If it wasn’t for the guy clearly not thinking very highly of him (understandable considering the circumstances), Matteo would think he had been transported into a parallel universe, one where his life was not ridden by shame, anxiety and contradictory thoughts and actions. One where he might just very well be happy. 

“The eggs are great” Matteo says, with a mouthful of scrambled eggs making the sentence somewhat unintelligible. The eggs really were good, having an interesting addition of flavour Matteo couldn't quite identify, but Matteo would have said that even if they had tasted like cardboard. He had decided he wanted to win this boy over.

“Do you cook for all the strays you bring home?” he asked, tilting his head and looking him in the eye, his earlier embarrassment pushed aside now that he had a mission. The boy looked back coolly.

“I don’t make a habit of bringing home strays” he answered curtly, refusing to respond to Matteo's playful tone.

“Ok..” Matteo said slowly. He breathed in, a quiet sigh, once again feeling the desire to run off and pretend this encounter never happened.

“Although” the boy continued, now looking towards the floor next to Matteo “I never regretted bringing home the previous stray I came across” And he broke out into a big, dazzling grin that took Matteo by surprise. It took Matteo a moment to process the transformation before he looked to the side to see what had brought out that smile. A giant, fluffy ginger cat was down by the floor next to his chair, having quietly snuck his way up close without Matteo noticing. Just as Matteo acknowledged its existence, it leaped up on his lap, and he startled at the unexpected weight. The ginger cat turned it's face upwards towards Matteo's face, and when he leaned forward a bit the cat sniffed his face, bopped his nose against Matteo's, and then proceeded to make itself comfortable on his lap, folding its paws underneath itself as it laid down and started purring. Matteo stroked the affectionate cat, then looked up to find the boy watching, disbelief written all over his face. “Troy has never liked anyone other than me." he said. Matteo felt satisfied at the thought. He’d fucked things up with this boy somehow, but his cat liking him seemed to bode well.

“So where do you go to school?” Matteo asked. This mystery boy needed solving. The boy had just put a final fork full of eggs in his mouth, and Matteo waited as he chewed. When the boy finished chewing he absentmindedly wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Matteo, without intending to, kept a close eye on his every movement, taking notice of every gesture, of the way the boy paused with a glance down at the table, of how then, with his eyes cast down, his impossibly long and thick eyelashes brushed the sensitive area beneath his eyes.  
“We go to the same school.” the boy answered calmly. Matteo was floored. His first thought was that this boy was lying to him. “What do you mean? I have never seen you there.” Matteo asked, deciding it was probably a bit rude to call him a liar. He rubbed Troy behind the ears and under the chin, being rewarded with an intensified purr.

“I only started this term. You’re friends with Jonas, I do math with him. So I guess we’ll see each other around” the boy said as he got up from the chair, picking up his own plate and reaching for Matteo’s, taking them over to the sink. His back once again turned to Matteo. It was an abrupt dismissal. Yet it now dawned on Matteo that this boy was actually real, this wasn’t all a dream. Not only that, this boy walked the same hallways he did. Matteo would not walk out of here today and never see him again. They went to the same school. It filled him with a sense of hope he wasn’t ready to explain to anyone, least of all himself. “Right. I better go now.” Matteo finally said, as the boy had made clear he had overstayed his already spurious welcome. Matteo lifted Troy off his lap and placed him on the floor. Troy stalked away, visibly aggrieved that Matteo thought he had something better to do than pat the cat all day.

“Ok, I’ll show you the way out.” the boy answered and proceeded to lead the way. Matteo followed him into the living room. This time Matteo noticed there was a pillow and a blanket on the couch, reminding him of what he had briefly thought had went down the previous night. It had all been in his head. “You didn’t need to give me your bed, I should have been the one to sleep on the couch.” Matteo said, the shame from earlier making itself reminded.  
“I didn’t give it to you. You just marched right in and made yourself comfortable… much like Troy did actually.” the boy answered, a hint of humour in his voice and one corner of his mouth turned upwards. Matteo instantly felt his mood lift a bit. He berated himself for his reaction to this boy’s smiles, then quickly decided he would ignore what it could mean.   
“I’m sorry. Again” Matteo said, adding a coy smile. He still wanted to win over this boy. 

That was what he found himself pondering as he found his way home. How could he make this boy like him? If only he knew what he had done to make the boy dislike him in the first. Unfortunately he could not think of a way to do so without straight up asking him.. Matteo was not ready to do that. He would find a way to make it up to him anyway, he decided. He pictured bumping into him at school, and his stomach fluttered in anticipation. It wasn’t until Matteo had made it home and was sitting down in front of his laptop, ready to engage in some harmless internet stalking, that he remembered he didn’t even know the boy’s name. The boy whose shirt he was still wearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I rushed this in the end just to finally post it.. let me know what you think and if you want more. Clearly Matteo did or said something that didn't go down well with "the boy" (wow what could his name be? lol). Will Matteo be able to figure out what happened, and repair the damage?

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you think I should continue this...


End file.
